


Wine Cellar, Revisited

by HawkSong



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkSong/pseuds/HawkSong
Summary: This takes place in between chapters 13 and 14 of "A Song in Your Heart," during the night before Estinien leaves to fight Nidhogg at the Aery.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Haurchefant Greystone/Estinien Wyrmblood
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Wine Cellar, Revisited

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in between chapters 13 and 14 of "A Song in Your Heart," during the night before Estinien leaves to fight Nidhogg at the Aery.

Twilight.

Estinien groaned as he turned over onto his back. Nightbird's bed was worlds away from the hard bunk he slept on in his own quarters. Hell, her room here was four times the size of his. Then again – he wasn't often in his room, and he didn't own much that needed to stay behind when he was working. Nightbird's collection of gowns alone would probably require all the space he had in his narrow closet of a room. The mental image made him grin a little.

He stretched, and groaned again as his shoulders both popped at the same time. He became aware of how quiet it was in the room. She was still gone, then. He got out of the bed, and proceeded to stretch thoroughly – his muscles had stiffened as he slept, and he needed the stretches badly. The entire time that he warmed up his body, he argued with himself.

He wanted to stay right here, to wait for her to return. But he still had not reported to Aymeric, or even returned to the dragoons' tower. Duty before pleasure, and he had already delayed much longer than he should.

He cursed under his breath with every piece of armor he donned. But as night closed in over the city, he let himself out via her window, and headed for Borel Manor. Hopefully, Aymeric was not working through the night again.

Aymeric was home. Long ago, Estinien had laid claim to an upper room – probably a space meant for some sort of servant, but Aymeric only kept his steward and his cook on the premises. The prior Viscount had entertained quite a lot more than the Lord Commander, of course, and had needed more staff. But even back then, this room had been vacant, and Estinien had used its window like a personal entrance for over a decade. He'd even slept here on occasion.

But tonight, he merely passed through the room and headed down to the ground floor.

He found Aymeric in the sitting room. The chairs had been moved around and the beat up old table brought out; as Estinien came in, Aymeric was digging around in a cabinet.

The Lord Commander looked up at the dragoon's step. “Estinien,” he smiled. “Welcome back, old friend.”

“Did you hear anything further about them?”

Aymeric didn't have to ask what he meant. He nodded, gravely. “Master Alphinaud called me a few hours ago. There were some further developments regarding the Scions' and their, ah, situation. I am given to understand that they are spending tomorrow attempting to track down any of the lower ranking Scions that remain. He does not expect to be back in the city for another day.” He shrugged a little. “He will be here when he is able, and we will meet then to discuss the outcome of your expedition.”

“Right. I suppose this is as good a time as any to give you a better report than before.”

“Come and help me bring up the wine,” Aymeric told him. “Haurchefant should be here relatively soon.”

“Were you going to play cards without me?” Estinien pretended to be hurt, but Aymeric laughed, seeing through the sham.

“I had planned to trounce him at chess again, actually.”

The two of them made their way down to the wine cellar, and Estinien “reported” – very informally. Telling him about all that had transpired – locating Lady Iceheart; traveling through Dravanian lands; the Warrior of Light facing down yet another primal; and their removal of one of the greater dragons in Nidhogg's Horde – it all sounded like the most unlikely tale. But when he reached the part where they had spoken to Hraesvelgr – he could not bring himself to reveal the uncomfortable truths of which the white wyrm had spoken.

“I think it better to wait until Leveilleur can give you the details of that meeting,” he concluded, as they set down the four bottles of wine that Aymeric had selected. “Suffice it to say, for now, that our suit for peace was rejected.”

Aymeric frowned slightly, clearly not happy with such evasion, but before he could speak, they both heard a knock on the door. Aymeric's man answered it, and clear as day they heard Haurchefant greeting him.

The silver knight came into the room, and smiled widely at seeing Estinien. “Good!” he exclaimed. “I was not terribly eager to be shown up yet again at chess.”

Aymeric laughed.

The fourth bottle of wine was opened. The card game was progressing much as expected, but to Estinien's consternation, the subject of talk was not at all what he would have preferred.

Somehow, Haurchefant had uncovered the dragoon's relationship with Nightbird.

“Come now, Estinien,” Haurchefant coaxed. “You simply must tell us more about her.”

“Bugger off, damn it.” Estinien's glare had absolutely no effect on the smirking knight. “How in the seven hells did you even find out?”

“She's living in my father's house, did you think I would not notice?” Haurchefant grinned. “Besides, I met her at one of her concerts before that. I had no idea you were a music lover, Estinien.”

The dragoon rolled his eyes at the pun. “Fine, that's how you met her, but why do you know about – about – ”

“I told him,” Aymeric said, then had the stones to give Estinien an innocent look. “What?”

Estinien grabbed the open bottle and drank directly from it, not bothering with the cup.

Haurchefant didn't even bat an eye. “So, is she as pretty out of her clothes as in them?”

The bottle crashed down onto the table. “Haurchefant, you swiving son of a – ”

“He's smitten for certain,” Haurchefant grinned to Aymeric, who grinned back, completely unfazed by the murderous glare now aimed his way.

“I am not sharing bedroom stories with you.” Estinien sucked down more wine. “And you had better stay away from her, Haurchefant. Don't even think about her.”

“My, my,” Haurchefant's eyebrows went up. “Are you so uncertain of her?”

“ _ **She is mine**_.” The voice that issued from Estinien's throat was no longer quite human, and the growl that accompanied the words was decidedly draconic.

The room fell silent. Estinien looked away, struggling to regain control. The dark power that lived inside of his soul writhed, sparking pain behind his eyes, before he finally managed to will it back down into its sullen slumber.

“...Sorry.”

Aymeric spoke. “Do you plan to make formal arrangements with her? Since clearly you have formed quite an attachment.”

“Attachment,” Estinien snorted. “Fury take me...Aymeric, I'm bloody damned obsessed with her.” He sat forward, his head in his hands. “I'm not...I'm not like this.”

“What, you truly do not believe you can fall in love?” Haurchefant's voice mocked him.

Estinien looked up. “Only idiots like you believe in love.”

“I am content to be the most idiotic fool in all Coerthas,” Haurchefant retorted. But then, his features softened and his voice was quiet. “And wisdom seems to have brought you no happiness, brother.”

Estinien shut his eyes. “Why are you always kind to me when I've snarled at you?”

“Because that's generally when you need kindness most. You forget too easily that we _know_ you,” Aymeric told him. “When did you start seeing her, if I might ask that much?”

“The very first night. When you dragged me to that concert at Haillenarte Manor.”

“Did you fall in love the first time she looked at you?” Haurchefant's teasing tone was back, though less annoying than usual. “Or the first time you touched her?”

Estinien's grin was filled with pain, and he didn't open his eyes. “Not the first time, no.” He hung his head, and his voice cracked as he continued. “Before morning, though, she had me.”

Haurchefant exchanged a look with Aymeric. “That...that concert was months ago.”

Aymeric nodded, his brows knitting.

“Estinien, you stubborn ass, have you been fighting it all this time?” Haurchefant sounded honestly appalled.

“Well _of course_ I have!” Estinien raised his head and grabbed the wine, slugging back another mouthful. “There's no future for her with me – Fury! What could I possibly give her? Why should she want to be shackled to a man who's half dragon? A man who's dying by inches and could very easily lose his sanity at any moment? She's mad for even tolerating me. And she's never breathed a word as to...any kind of...”

Aymeric's eyes narrowed in thought, then widened. “You haven't told her how you feel, and she hasn't said anything to you. And you're afraid.”

Estinien just drained the wine bottle. He looked like he wanted to throw it, but with exaggerated care he set it down on the table. “I am not,” he said carefully, “afraid.”

He put one hand over his eyes.

“I'm bloody fucking petrified.” He took a long breath. “And I can't afford this. I can't afford to be distracted. Not when I'm going up against _him_.”

All three of them were silent again, until Aymeric stood, his chair scraping as he shoved it back and went to his friend's side.

He went to one knee beside the dragoon, and set one hand to his shoulder. “My friend...”

“You know I'm not one for giving advice,” Haurchefant told the dragoon. “But I strongly suggest, brother, that you go and tell the girl now. Yes,” he nodded when Estinien gave him an incredulous look, “Yes, _now_ , even though you're a bit on the drunk side. Fury! But being drunk might even help.”

“Why? Why now?” Estinien rasped.

“If it's doomed, better to find out now,” Haurchefant shrugged. “Though – and I am not having fun with you here, my friend – I believe you'll find her receptive enough.”

“What do you know?” Estinien's eyes narrowed. “What have you done, Haurchefant?”

“You really are an ass. I've _done_ nothing.” Haurchefant huffed. “I am a man of honor, and a man who can take no for an answer, as you well know. She's never so much as winked at me – or anyone else, for that matter. But I _have_ seen that she bristles most fiercely...in defense of you.”

Estinien's jaw dropped. But then he shook his head. “I can't just go to her, drunk like this, and tell her. She'll think me mad.”

Haurchefant's smile turned sly. “You know, Aymeric, he might be right. Perhaps I should go and collect her, bring her here, hmm?”

“You wouldn't _dare_.”

“We could take turns extolling Estinien's virtues – few though they are.” Haurchefant didn't seem to notice Estinien's hands flexing and the low growl rumbling in his chest. “Or we could do the same as any sellers of mounts, and invite her to check his mouth and try his paces.”

Estinien shot up out of his chair and went for the silver knight. Fortunately for Haurchefant, he had just finished off a bit more than half a bottle of wine, much too fast.

His lunge for the other man's throat was spoiled as he tripped. The dragoon ended up sprawled on his knees with his head on Haurchefant's stomach, while the knight held onto him, guffawing.

He mumbled curses into Haurchefant's tunic, his limbs uncoordinated and his head swimming.

Aymeric stepped around the table, shaking his head even as he hauled on Estinien's arm. “Haurchefant, sometimes you go too far. The poor man's in no shape for your teasing.”

“I go just exactly far enough,” Haurchefant replied without a drop of apology. But he helped get Estinien to his feet, and helped Aymeric get him over to the couch to lie flat. “I'll fetch some water for him,” he said, leaving Estinien alone with his oldest friend.

“He's a fool at times,” Aymeric said quietly. “But you know he means well.”

But Estinien was staring up at the ceiling, tears smeared on his face. He didn't sob, didn't speak, just lay there. Aymeric had seen this before, and he knew what would come next. The dragoon would seek comfort – allow himself to be comforted – or he would flee, to find release in violence out in the frozen wilds. It was better – for Estinien – not to run off into the snow, but being Estinien...

All Aymeric could do for the moment was be here, and hope the other man would not spook.

He sat down beside his friend, setting his hand over the dragoon's. Long fingers tangled with his and clung with a desperate, trembling grip.

Haurchefant returned, with a pitcher and a plain mug. He poured cold water into the mug and handed it to Aymeric, who in turn gently persuaded the dragoon to sit up and drink it.

Estinien stayed silent, until he had finished the mug of water. His voice, raspy still, was more controlled. “Remind me why I put up with your bullshit, Haurchefant.”

“I'm the most lovable bastard,” the silver knight answered promptly, as he often did when he'd pushed Estinien as far as this.

How had the three of them formed so many habits, Estinien wondered fuzzily. But the wine had him all muddled and he was tired of trying to think his way out of being in love.

“Upstairs?” Aymeric asked him. Offering.

Something clutched at Estinien's guts. _Habits_.

The three of them had comforted each other so many times over the years. Just because Aymeric needed it the most frequently didn't mean anything in particular. All of them had, at times, needed the release. The _escape:_ from too much war, too much loss, too much thinking...

He nodded, once.

The three of them made their way up the stairs – the other two supporting Estinien, whose feet were still a little clumsy. Then, down the hallway, and into Aymeric's room.

None of the candles were lit; the fire was banked. The only illumination came from the moon, shining in through the window. The room was chilly, late autumn as this was, but none of them noticed.

Estinien's movements were languid, as if he were sleepwalking; Aymeric let go of him, and his arm wound around Haurchefant's neck while the lord commander locked the door and began to shed clothing.

The silver knight embraced the dragoon, nuzzling his neck. Estinien hissed when Haurchefant nipped at a sensitive place on his throat, and sought his mouth. They kissed, and Haurchefant's hand came up to pull Estinien's hair free of its simple tail.

Hands were in his hair, and Estinien leaned his head back, releasing Haurchefant's mouth. Aymeric gathered him close, one hand sliding around him to hold him, while the other hand softly stroked the long silver hair to one side, tugging gently, so gently, to guide Estinien's head until it lay against the lord commander's bare shoulder. Aymeric set his lips against his throat, setting his teeth against the skin, just hard enough to pinch. Estinien shivered.

Haurchefant had stepped back, and stripped out of his own clothing with his usual alacrity. He came back, unbuttoning Estinien's shirt, unlacing his pants. Estinien's hands played with Haurchefant's hair, even as he pressed back against Aymeric.

Haurchefant slid his hands underneath the black shirt and caressed Estinien's skin. Aymeric whispered into the dragoon's ear. “Will you let us comfort you, my friend?”

In answer, Estinien turned his head and pressed his lips against Aymeric's.

Haurchefant planted a kiss on Estinien's chest bone, then moved away for a moment. Estinien turned in Aymeric's arms to press against him, curling his hand around the back of the lord commander's neck, demanding that Aymeric plunder his mouth.

The lord commander obliged him, kissing him as if he were a mighty conqueror taking the gates of a city.

He could feel Aymeric's erection, hot against his skin; just as it always did, answering heat blazed up in his own belly. Between the wine and the lust, he couldn't put together two coherent thoughts in a row. And oh, how he wanted to feel this way right now.

With his free hand he yanked his pants down, so that his own raging hard-on could spring free of its confinement.

Aymeric stepped back, tugging at his hands, leading him to the bed. Haurchefant was already waiting there, with the lubricant in one hand and a lazy grin on his face, sitting with his back against the headboard.

Estinien crawled onto the bed and almost into Haurchefant's lap, his hands kneading the silver knight's thighs as he kissed the hollow of his throat. Haurchefant handed the bottle to Aymeric, and slid both hands into Estinien's hair, tugging him just a little higher, kissing him lustily.

Aymeric's hands tugged, easing his pants farther down. Estinien shifted his knees, helping to remove the clothes. He still had on his shirt, the fabric whispering against his skin as he moved, but it wasn't in the way, and he paid it no mind. Of far more importance was the heat of Aymeric's hands as they returned to him, stroking and massaging.

The dragoon broke off his kiss with Haurchefant to look over his shoulder at the lord commander. Aymeric slid his hands across Estinien's thighs and then over his narrow hips, shifting forward even as Estinien rocked back a little. Aymeric lowered his head, his body curling over Estinien's, and placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder-blade as his cock rubbed against the back of Estinien's thigh.

Estinien dropped his head, panting harshly for a moment. Haurchefant tugged his hair, pulling it away from his face with care, and flexed his hips upward, a motion of offering, a plea.

Estinien's mouth opened, and he licked the cock in front of him even as he ground against the one behind him. Haurchefant gathered all of the dragoon's silver hair in one hand, off to the side, and set his free hand on the shaft of his cock, steadying it so that Estinien could settle his mouth around it.

Aymeric's fingers touched Estinien, slick with lubricant that was cool against fever-hot flesh. The dragoon moaned softly, drawing a grunt of pleasure from Haurchefant. Aymeric slipped his fingers inside, wasting little time in working Estinien up. As infrequent as these nights were, they all knew each other well enough, knew what each of them liked most.

Haurchefant was the shameless one, of course – always the last to finish of a night, always ready to see to the needs of the other two men. Aymeric was the shyest of them, the needy one, the tender lover. And Estinien...when he needed it, he needed it hard and harsh and fast. Haurchefant and Aymeric both knew well, he wanted them to wreck him completely.

_And wreck him they would._

He grunted as Aymeric spread him, and then groaned again around Haurchefant's cock as the lord commander slipped out, then spread more lubricant, stroking his own cock and rubbing the head against Estinien's entrance. Hips rocked in silent demand, and Aymeric laughed, a low and dark sound; a sound echoed by Haurchefant, as the silver knight tightened his hand in Estinien's hair just a bit.

“He's quite the brat, isn't he, my dear Aymeric?”

Aymeric didn't answer aloud, only taunted Estinien for a moment more. Estinien would have growled, except that Haurchefant thrust into his mouth just then, the head of his cock hitting the gag reflex.

Even as the dragoon was concentrating on taking all of Haurchefant's cock, Aymeric pressed against Estinien's ass in earnest, sliding in and hilting in one smooth motion. Estinien's eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, filled from both ends, gripped with a wave of ecstasy that robbed him of any pretense at rational thought. Fear and worry and even his feelings for Nightbird vanished in a fog of wanting, of pleasure, of _need_.

“Good,” Haurchefant whispered to him. “You take us so very well, Estinien.”

Eyes watering, Estinien sucked on the silver knight's cock, throat flexing, fiercely glad when Haurchefant groaned a bit louder than before. Behind him, Aymeric was moving, at a glacial pace, fingers flexing on Estinien's hips as he pulled slowly back, and sank in once more. Estinien could hear Aymeric's breathing – harsh, and yet tightly controlled. The lord commander's voice was distorted by the way he was clenching his jaw, but his words were clear. “Use him properly, Haurchefant. Give him what he needs...”

Haurchefant buried both hands in Estinien's hair, tugging it back away from his face and gripping his head. Estinien braced himself on the silver knight's thighs, and when Haurchefant began to fuck up against his face, he was ready for it, eager for it. He didn't need to do a thing other than hold steady against the firm thrusts of Haurchefant's hips, all he had to do was concentrate on licking and sucking and breathing at just the right time, so he didn't choke.

And as always, Haurchefant was shameless, whispering filthy things as he took his pleasure. “Such a talented mouth,” he crooned, and Estinien knew his face was red, felt the flush of pleased embarrassment spreading all the way to his shoulders, but Haurchefant only kept right on. “Truly the best gods-damned mouth in all Ishgard,” the silver knight groaned.

Aymeric continued his maddening, slow thrusts; Estinien knew he was watching, could feel the lord commander's cock twitching in response to the things Haurchefant was saying.

“Fury,” Haurchefant groaned suddenly – and then he was fucking into Estinien's mouth in earnest, a few hard strokes, and coming. Estinien swallowed, water flowing down his cheeks as he gasped for air, until at last Haurchefant released him. He heard Aymeric groan softly as he raised his head and accepted a long, deep kiss from the silver knight.

Estinien grunted as Aymeric gripped him hard. No longer was the lord commander moving slowly. He took Estinien's hair in one hand, tugging his head farther up, as Haurchefant slid his arms around the dragoon, supporting and stabilizing him. Aymeric's pace increased swiftly, until he was pounding Estinien's ass without mercy, flesh slapping against flesh, driving little grunts and moans from the man impaled on his cock.

Estinien gave himself up to it, gladly, drowning in sensations that made everything else cease to matter. His own cock strained and twitched, a tormented yearning thing between his legs, but that just made what Aymeric was doing all the sweeter for him.

Haurchefant held him close, whispering to him still yet. “Such a fine steed you are, Estinien, how well you take our dear lord commander's cock.” The knight's breath was hot against Estinien's ear. “Is he fucking you hard enough, my dear dragoon?”

“Yes,” Estinien managed, muffled against Haurchefant's shoulder.

“You want it harder, don't you, our silver haired beauty?”

Estinien groaned, his whole body shuddering.

“Say it,” Aymeric grunted. “You know you have but to ask, Estinien.”

“F-f-fuck,” Estinien gasped, “Fuck me, Aymeric. Fuck me – ah Fury – fuck me harder!”

Aymeric's answer was only another groan, one that sounded torn from his very soul, but he slammed into Estinien's ass, and even as he did so, Haurchefant was reaching one long arm forward and down and grasping Estinien's cock. The dragoon gasped, seeing stars as the knight's long fingers effortlessly wrapped around him and stroked – once, twice, a third time – and then –

The sound that ripped from Estinien's throat was part groan, part dragon's growl, part desperate cry – and he came, hard and fast, his body twitching helplessly on and around Aymeric's cock. The lord commander cried out as well, curling forward and burying himself deep inside the dragoon, his own climax triggered by the way Estinien's body clenched and quaked around him.

They were still for just a moment, tangled limbs and sweat and harsh breaths, bodies so entwined it was difficult to tell where one began and the other ended.

Then, slowly, gentle once more, Aymeric withdrew from Estinien. There was a sloppy sound as he disengaged, and Estinien groaned again, shaking in every limb.

Aymeric got off the bed, and padded out of the room briefly. Meanwhile Haurchefant manipulated the dragoon's lax limbs, getting Estinien turned over onto his back somewhat, making certain to keep his legs spread apart.

Aymeric returned with a warm damp cloth and set about cleaning the exhausted dragoon, while Haurchefant kissed Estinien lazily, smoothing sweat-damp hair away from flushed cheeks. “So very beautiful,” the silver knight murmured. “It's damned unfair, you know.”

Estinien's mouth twitched. “Shut up, Haurchefant.”

“Oh?” Haurchefant grinned, and then leaned down and nipped Estinien's ear. “I think not.”

Then Aymeric was handing Haurchefant the cloth, and the knight eased off the bed, cleaning off the place where Estinien's seed had spilled, then walking into the bathing chamber to perform his own ablutions.

Aymeric took up a place on Estinien's other side, sitting beside him and carding his long fingers through the dragoon's hair for a moment. He stroked a thumb across Estinien's cheek. “We did not hurt you?”

“Never.” Estinien reached for the lord commander, pulling him in for a kiss.

Aymeric's mouth was tender on his, now, a sharing kiss, not a conquering one. “Ah, my dearest friend,” Aymeric sighed. “Sometimes I wish we had had other fates, other lives. Lives free of these responsibilities that crush us so.”

“No point wishing such nonsense,” Estinien grunted. “Would never have met you in the first place if not for the things that happened. Anything different, you'd be just another spoiled damn rich boy.”

Aymeric smiled despite the brusque words. “I would like to believe I would not be so very spoiled as all that.”

“We are what we are,” Estinien said, and then kissed Aymeric again, a deep kiss that made the lord commander's breath quicken once more. Estinien whispered against his mouth, hushed, secretive.

“If you weren't who and what you are, I wouldn't care about you. I wouldn't be able to trust you enough to love you at all.”

Aymeric's eyes glittered in the moonlight, and he pressed his forehead to Estinien's. “I know.”

Haurchefant returned, and Estinien let the moment pass. The silver knight had brought the cloth back, setting it on the night stand within easy reach.

Aymeric moved slightly, tossing pillows onto the floor, while Haurchefant clambered up onto the bed and laid down beside Estinien, throwing one leg over the dragoon's.

“My turn,” the silver knight grinned. “Since you're still able to talk, that means you're still able to worry, and we can't have that, now can we?”

“Shut the fuck up, Haurchefant,” Estinien growled.

Haurchefant laughed. “Make me.”

“Oh, I will,” the dragoon promised, and pushed Haurchefant back, rolling over to pin the knight beneath him. He attacked Haurchefant's mouth, but the silver knight only laughed again and kissed him back, enthusiastic as ever.

Aymeric stretched out beside the two of them, and when Estinien looked up, held up the little bottle of lubricant. Estinien's smile turned wolfish. “Keep his _mouth_ busy, would you?” he asked the lord commander, even as he took the bottle.

“Oh, not going to do the job yourself?” Haurchefant teased.

“The wise commander,” Estinien smirked, “delegates.”

Haurchefant's laugh was cut short as Aymeric took his mouth.

Estinien's cock was already recovered – the wine had burned off by this point, and his body was by no means satiated. He stroked himself, applying lube as he did so, and then set the bottle aside.

Aymeric kept on kissing the silver knight even as Estinien tugged Haurchefant's knees up, pressing the man's thighs apart and down, spreading him. Haurchefant shifted, getting his arms up and out of the way. Aymeric moved as well, sprawling somewhat, until he could grasp Haurchefant's hand and set it on his own rapidly rising manhood. Shameless and willing as ever, Haurchefant wrapped his fingers around the lord commander's cock and began to stroke and fondle him.

Estinien, meanwhile, was pressing against Haurchefant's entrance, sliding inside of the other man, watching his face as he maneuvered himself. When Haurchefant broke off his kiss with Aymeric to gasp, red-faced, Estinien paused, waiting, letting him relax. For once, the silver knight was without words, and Estinien's grin was smug as he sank the rest of the way inside.

Haurchefant's head rolled to the side, and the flush of red spread from his face down his chest and shoulders. “Fury,” he groaned, before Aymeric grabbed his chin and reclaimed his mouth.

Estinien kept Haurchefant's legs spread and flattened, feeling the way his thighs trembled from the strain of the position, reveling in the tightening around his cock. He thrust in a slow and careful rhtyhm, pacing himself, watching as Haurchefant stroked Aymeric's cock into full wakefulness.

Aymeric's hand roved across Haurchefant's chest. When he pinched one pale pink nipple, Haurchefant groaned, and Estinien cursed softly.

“Let me...” Haurchefant gasped, “let me suck you, my dear lord commander.”

Aymeric shifted, up onto his knees, straddling Haurchefant, only a little awkwardly. As Haurchefant eagerly wrapped his lips around Aymeric's cock, Estinien kissed the lord commander.

The dragoon continued fucking Haurchefant slowly. Under him, the knight groaned again and again. Aymeric had one hand on Haurchefant's head and the other on Estinien's shoulder, his hips barely moving. His eyes were half closed as he languidly kissed Estinien, his tongue flirting with the dragoon's.

Haurchefant's groans became faster, more frantic, and his hands began to rove, patting and stroking any part of the other two that he could reach. Estinien eased back just enough to let Haurchefant's legs wrap around him, and to allow Aymeric access to the straining cock that had up to now been pinned between Haurchefant's belly and Estinien's.

Haurchefant pulled his mouth off of Aymeric's cock, grimacing, teeth clenched as his belly tightened, his insides tightened – Estinien's vision went a little gray at the incredible pressure – and then he was pulling out, coming all over Haurchefant's belly and chest. The silver knight's moans quieted, his head thrown back as he panted.

Estinien managed to get off of the bed and get the cloth. Not so warm, now, but that mattered less than getting Haurchefant cleaned up. Aymeric was already using the lubricant, his motions hurried and sharp, and Haurchefant was panting, but grinning, his eyes watching the lord commander as the other man spread himself to rub the lube into his own anus. Estinien finished cleaning Haurchefant's belly just as Aymeric reached for the silver knight's cock, hand gleaming with lubricant. Quick motions, and in moments Aymeric was straddling Haurchefant's hips and easing himself down.

“ _Haurchefant_ ,” he groaned.

The silver knight grasped the lord commander's cock, and Estinien helpfully grabbed the lube and poured a bit of it over both fist and cock head. Aymeric's hands clutched at Haurchefant's chest as he balanced on the knight's cock, breathing hard.

Estinien quickly cleaned himself and then climbed onto the bed once more, to kneel between Haurchefant's knees and behind Aymeric, and wrap his arms around the lord commander's chest. Haurchefant began to fuck Aymeric, and Aymeric relaxed back into Estinien's grasp, one hand reaching back to touch the dragoon's hair. His head lolled on Estinien's shoulder, and his mouth fell open as he bounced on Haurchefant's cock.

The lord commander's cock was red in Haurchefant's hand, and his thighs trembled with every jounce of Haurchefant's hips. His voice was hoarse as he muttered, quiet curses punctuated by gasps.

This time it was Estinien who spoke, hot breath against hot flesh, his lips brushing Aymeric's ear. “We've got you. You can let go.”

Aymeric whimpered once. There was no other warning. Haurchefant almost shouted as he began to come, and Aymeric came, and Estinien held his oldest friend and let him collapse against him, nearly weeping in the aftermath.

All three of them moved slowly, when it was over – easing apart, helping each other to stand, helping clean each other and themselves. There was no need for words as they crawled back into the bed. Haurchefant retrieved the pillows that Aymeric had tossed aside, while Estinien took the spot he always did – in the middle of the bed. Aymeric drew the covers over them all, then tugged the bed-curtains closed.

In the soft darkness, Estinien let himself be cuddled. Haurchefant lay on his back and curled one arm around the dragoon; Aymeric snuggled up on the other side, one leg tangled with Estinien's.

For years, this was as close to happy as Estinien ever got – exhausted, warm, and held in arms that cared for him as no one else. He had believed this was as good as his life could ever get – and far better than it could have been. He had treasured nights like these, even as he had tried not to ask for them often.

Then he had met Nightbird, and everything he thought he knew about relationships was turned on its head. As he drifted into sleep, he realized that she made him feel this way too. Not just when they were in bed together, either.

Maybe he would never truly know love. But for the first time since his family had perished to Nidhogg's rage, he dared to hope.


End file.
